Mary Kate
by darkshiptrash
Summary: Her name was Mary Kate.


Mary Kate MacDonald had always like she was different than all the children that lived in the neighborhood. Well, almost all. Right next door, lived the Maximoff family. They were as strange as they came. And she didn't that they were strange in an Addams family way. They were just, really strange. They always looked as if they were living on a constant fear, like they feared somebody might find them and murder them. The way people did in the historical books she had read. So, really strange. Not that Mary Kate had any right to speak, seeing as when she was angered, things tended to fly out of the room for unexplained reasons.

It honestly didn't make any sense.

One day, when Mary Kate was nine, she had came across Pietro (though some called him Peter) running through the street as quick as a bullet, quicker even. And Mary Kate just stood there with her mouth gaping open because these sorts of things just didn't happen, weren't supposed to happen.

Wasn't normal.

"Holy shit!" Pietro was a significantly older, quite tall, white-haired boy who always appeared as if he was bored out of his mind all day and night. He stormed towards her with a look of panic on his face, seeming to be running his head through ideas on how he could possibly explain him running as fast as the flash through the street to a child. Because, after all, nobody babbled like children. "Mary Kate —,"

"Are you a metahuman?" Was Mary Kate's first question, "Because, Holy Shit, Pietro! You've run as fast as the freaking Flash!" At seven years of an age, Mary Kate was a vivid comic book fan. Comic books were her thing. She knew basically everything there was to know about them and Barry Allen was her favorite. He was just so dope!

Pietro merely looked puzzlingly at her, rolling his head to the side before a small, affectionate smile crossed his face. "Yeah." He said. "Something like that."

Mary Kate was a curious child. So, after having her suspicions were confirmed by her fair-haired neighbor, the only logical thing for Mary Kate to do was to bomber him with a bunch of questions. "Are your sisters as quick as you? Why do you not tell people? You could be saving people, joining some superhero team like Justice League!"

"Mary Kate, slow down." He sighed as if he found her curiosity a very endearing trait. "We cannot have people finding about us. Do you understand? So, you cannot tell people."

But Mary Kate was confused. "Why not?" She asked. "You are like a superhero!"

"Because people don't like people like me." He said. "They never would. People simply don't like people different than them." Those words stayed with her for the rest of her life. Because they were so cruelly true that it ached her heart thousands of times.

The day Mary Kate turned eleven, an old woman who wore a really strange, almost mediaval like clothes came to her house. She introduced herself as Minerva McGonagall, a Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts, a special school specifically created for those with similar abilities as Mary Kate. And then, she told Mary Kate that she was in fact a witch and that she wasn't alone with her abilities and that there were others like her. An entire community filled with people like her. And that if she wanted, she was welcome to start her education at Hogwarts coming September.

Mary Kate merely smiled as if it was something she had known all along. Of course, Mary Kate had thought she was a mutant, but she thought it was close enough. "I am a witch." She told Pietro the next day. "And I am going to a school filled with people like me. Is there a school with people like you?"

Pietro nodded his head slowly. "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters." He sighed deeply, like the very idea pained him. "My mother doesn't trust Charles Xavier. She doesn't want us anywhere near him. She told us he can read minds, that he's a telepath. She thinks it would be dangerous to be near him."

"And what do you think?"

Pietro looked at her then, suddenly seeming very much like a child he should have been. "I want to go."

"Then you should go."

Pietro chuckled lightly. "It's not that simple." He groaned under his breath, his head falling against his hands. "God, I wish it was! But it isn't."

"Just make it simple then."

He laughed like he found her so amusing. "Never change, Mary Kate."

By the time Mary Kate turned fifteen, she had discovered she didn't quite like boys the way her parents had told her she should, had found out she was never going to have a husband if her life went the way she wished. Mary Kate wished for a life that she wouldn't have to be scowled at just because she was different, desperately wished that Pietro didn't have to either. And more than anything else in the world, she wished to kiss the warm lips of Dorcas Meadowes, kiss her until her lips were bruising, but in a very good way, taste her until she found herself smiling like some lovesick fool. But of course, none of that would ever happen because people were assholes and they would always try to bully those they viewed different than them.

When Mary Kate came home and they were sitting in the corner of his bedroom like two awkward teenagers (except, he wasn't really a teenager now, was he? He was twenty five), like things were suddenly awkward between them because they hadn't seen each other in months, he suddenly blurted out. "My father is Magneto." He said, his chest heaving like he expected her to look at him in the pure horror. "I've met him. I sneaked him out of the prison he was in. And he doesn't have a fucking clue to who I am."

Mary Kate merely blinked her eyes and smiled at him in the understanding, "It's going to be fine." She said. "So, he is Magneto. It doesn't mean he wouldn't love you any less if he found out who you are." And then, she told him, biting her lips hard. "I am gay."

He chuckled lightly. "I know."

She glared at him. "Are you quoting Han Solo at me?"

"I can't be quoting Han Solo. Because for that to happen, you would've had to confess your undying love for me and seeing as you find me as sexually attractive as a very fine chair, I don't see how exactly that is possible."

"You would make a very fine chair." She smiled.

"Screw you."

She smirked. "I love you too."

He gave her the finger.

By the time the seventh year rolled around, it appeared as if Dorcas was more than just interested in her, if the way she caught her staring at her was any indication at all.

"Hey." The slightly tall, brown skinned witch smiled, and Mary Kate felt her heart jumping.

"Hey." She replied, waving anxiously before she had the sense to realize she looked awfully foolish like that. "I am Mary."

She should slap herself. Like twice.

"I know." Dorcas smiled at her knowingly, as if she knew very well why exactly Mary Kate was making such a fool out of herself. Mary wanted to jump out of the tower. Anything was better than going through such an embarrassment. "We've shared classes before. Many times."

"Oh, right." She laughed nervously, and Mary had the distinct feeling of wanting to disappear. "Because we are in the same year and that's how these things are supposed to work." She should stop speaking like, right now, before she confessed her undying love to the witch.

That would be very uncomfortable. Not to say embarrassing.

Dorcas smiled at her endearingly and Mary's heart jumped like Pietro was jumping up and down the bed like such a child even though he was well past the age to be able to jump on his bed without appearing completely foolish. "Mary Kate, can I ask you a question?" She asked, biting her lips. "If I were to ask you to go with me to the Yule Ball, would it be possible that you would accept?"

If Mary Kate was a graceful person, she probably would have said something like yes, I would like that very much. But seeing as Mary Kate was the least graceful person she knew, she did the most unexpected thing a person in her shoes would have done. In fact, she didn't say anything at all. Mary Kate merely acted on her heart and pulled the witch closer, kissing the witch deeply on her lips, biting and all.

Dorcas made a surprised noise before she smiled and deepened the kiss, her arms running through Mary's long, dark-brown hair.

Mary Kate pulled apart and bit her lips hard.

"Is that a yes?" Dorcas grinned.

Mary Kate smiled. "Yes." She said.

When January rolled around, it seemed that Lily Evans had gotten together with James Potter.

Mary Kate made a disgusted noise. "But why?" She asked Dorcas. "Lily deserves better than him." In her mind, James Potter was a big, mean bully. She didn't buy his changed claim at all. She still saw him bullying Snape. How could Lily be so blind?

"Straight people would never make sense, Mary Kate." Dorcas told her, drinking from her champagne. "We should stop questioning them."

Mary Kate sighed deeply and drowned her drink.

Mary Kate was feeling very afraid. She was laying on the floor, unmoving. She felt frozen in the place. "Mary —," It was Dorcas, tears in her eyes as she supported her head. "I would murder him — Mulciber —," Dorcas broke down, fingers on Mary's bloodied face.

"Dorcas?" She asked. "Where's Pietro? I think I see the stars."

Dorcas trembled, her fingers shaking on her face. "I am sure Pietro is coming, Mary." She then kissed her lightly on the lips, "Oh, my sweet angel. What had he done to you?"

When Pietro came running to the castle, Mary took one long look at him and burst out crying. "Pietro — I was so scared." Pietro enveloped her in the tight hug as his shoulders shook, his head on her shoulders and he too, cried. "So fucking scared."

On the day Mary MacDonald married Dorcas Meadowes, Pietro had arrived wearing a tux he had specifically bought for the occasion and that was really saying something because Pietro Maximoff, the son of the fucking Magneto, didn't do tuxedos. It just wasn't his style. And no, the X men uniform that those bitches had tried forcing on him wasn't either. The things he did for love.

"You look pretty." Mary Kate commented.

"Oh, fuck off!" He rolled his eyes dramatically as he drowned his firewhiskey. It really was so unfair wizards held this heavenly thing away from the rest of the world.

There was a humor in her brown eyes as she spoke, "I know you would like that very much, Pete, but seeing as it's my wedding, I cannot. You would have to learn how to live with me."

He smiled at her mournfully, feeling quite like an older brother seeing his little sister married off. "I am happy for you, kiddo."

"You're really becoming such an old man, aren't you, Pietro?"

Pietro looked scandalously at the brunette. "Old?" He gawked in the most dramatic way possible. "I am only twenty eight!"

"And I am eighteen."

"Still far too young to marry, if you ask me."

She snorted. "Just because you refuse to settle down until thirty, it doesn't mean the rest of us are."

He glanced at her in a good humor. "Are you my mother?"

She stared at him for a long while, thinking. "How's Wanda?" She asked.

"Recovering." His sister did always have trouble taking a control over her powers. But last time she had taken it a few steps too far and she didn't really take it well emotionally.

Every day, she spent holed up in her room, refusing to either speak or eat. Pietro was worried. Wanda was his other half, his everything. Without her in the world, Pietro would have very few things to live for. Excluding Mary Kate, of course.

Mary Kate dragged by the arm to the dance floor, laughing. "Come on, dance with me!" And he did.

Pietro couldn't breathe. Mary Kate, she was — no, he stopped himself before he could think any further. Mary Kate laid still in his arms and she giggled at him weakly, soft fingers touching his silver white hair. "Pietro, I see the stars."

Pietro gulped hard, drops of tears falling down his nose as he brushed Mary Kate's brown hair away from her eyes. "It's going to be fine. It's going to —," And when Mary Kate's breaths stilled and her arms dropped down to the ground, he held her body even tighter and cried.

A few years later, after the battle was done and all over with, Storm asked him, "Have you ever lost someone so important that it makes you want to cry every time you think of them?"

Pietro smiled bitterly at her, his heart aching. "My best friend." He said. "Her name was Mary Kate."


End file.
